


video girl

by mwestbelle



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Community: kink_bingo, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:30:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mwestbelle/pseuds/mwestbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a space AU that has more random worldbuilding than actual porn in it. In which Frank wanders into a virtual sex video booth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	video girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "prostitution/sex work" for Kink Bingo. A...somewhat strange take on that prompt, but oh well!

It’s Frank’s last night dirtbound, and he doesn’t have enough credits to get into a half-decent bar. He doesn’t even have enough credits to get into a less-than-decent bar, not enough for any of the pretty girls lounging around the especially seedy bars to lay a hand on him. He stumbles along the sidewalk, doing his best not to step in the gutter. That’s the best way to end up ankle-deep in suckers, and he’s got enough data humming through him to get them latched on _hard_. His boots go up to his knee, but he’s heard that in port cities like this, suckers can burrow through even the finest synthetic leather. And what he’s got in his boots is far from the finest synthetic leather.

He’s about to give the night up as a lost cause, go back and sleep his hangover off on the ship and waste his last few hours on the dirt, when he comes to a row of busted-looking VG booths. The garish and lewd illustrations on the side are faded down to 2D, and even that is stained and murky beneath a layer of grime. But the light on top is still glowing bright pink, so the booth has to be in operation. Maybe, if he’s lucky, it’s operational enough to show him some pretty virtual tits, but busted enough not to charge him full credits for it. He looks around behind him; there are a few other lowlifes gathered at the mouth of the alley, but no one down this way. No one to see him or interrupt. He ducks into the second booth in the line.

The screen inside is cracked, but there’s still a parade of pretty girls pouting and winking and blowing kisses at him. Scrolling text along the bottom of the screen exhorts him to flash his creditband below and promises that all charges are anonymous. The console glows with light-up buttons, a few of which flicker weakly. Frank pushes a few of the buttons, experimenting, but the screen doesn’t change. He sighs, but raises his wrist to the small scanner set at the edge of the console. The machine whirs, and the scrolling text is replaced by a flashing 10 CREDITS. A few of the girls disappear off the screen—higher quality programs that charge more, what a fucking rip-off—but there are still hot ones left, flirting like only a virtual girl can.

Frank considers them all, looking down their virtual tops, then pounds the selection button for the girl on the far right of the screen. She’s got massive bouncy tits and all these blonde curls. She doesn’t look anything like any girl he’s seen in real life, and that suits him just fine. Why bother with the everyday when you’re going virtual?

“Hi there,” she purrs, in a low sultry voice. The other girls disappear, until it’s just her, filling up the screen. She’s smiling at him, lashes lowered, and Frank shifts in his seat, sliding his pelvis forward some so he can rub at his cock. “My name is Giga, what’s yours?”

Frank licks his lips and says, “Frank” as clearly as possible. There’s a moment’s delay while the machine processes, then Giga blinks and smiles, showing off all her perfectly white teeth.

“Frank. You’re so hot, Frank. You make me so hot.” She tucks a thumb under one of the straps of her top, which would be way too flimsy to support tits like that in real life, and slides it off her shoulder. “So…hot. I want to take this off.”

“Yeah, baby.” Frank gropes himself outside his pants, watching the heave of Giga’s chest through that tiny top. “Take it off. Show me.”

“Do you want to see?” Giga shifts and tugs her top over her head, revealing the hottest pair of tits. She’s really fucking well designed, and—the image flickers, just for a second, but Frank could have sworn he saw…nothing. Just a system glitch. Makes sense in a shitty old booth like this. “Do you want to see?” Giga repeats, strengthening the glitch hypothesis. She cups her tits in her hands, displaying them for Frank. “Do you like me?”

“I like you fine.” Frank starts to fiddle with his belt, getting his pants open. If the program is glitching, who knows how long he’ll have to get his rocks off?

“I like you too.” Giga’s smile is kind of frightening, really, looking at it too long. It’s a good thing Frank has much better things to focus on. He wraps his hand around his cock, stroking himself, watching those pretty pert pink nipples of hers and—the image flickers again, then changes entirely.

Frank is looking at a guy. He’s got his hand on his dick, and he’s looking at some pasty guy with greasy dark hair, and bags under his eyes, staring back at Frank in slack-jawed confusion. “What the fuck?”

“What the _fuck_?” The guy says, and for a second, Frank thinks this is all some big glitch, that this is a (really really weird) secret selection program or something, but then the guy is leaning in squinting at _him_ before leaning back in his chair. There is no way this guy is a program. He’s real.

Frank is concerned about the important things here. “Where’d Giga go?”

“She…shit.” The guy is typing furiously just outside of the screen, from the sound of it, faster than anyone Frank’s ever seen (and he’s watched some seriously excellent hackers work their magic). “The whole thing just shut down. God, no one _ever_ listens to me. Perform maintenance on the booths? Why would we fucking want to do that?”

“Yeah, well.” Frank sticks his tongue into his cheek, watching the guy. “That’s fascinating, and all, but I want my porn back. Got some unfinished business over here, if you know what I mean.”

“Trust me, I would love to give you your porn back.” The guy gives the most put upon sigh and squints at Frank. He looks really grumpy, but his cheeks are kind of pink. “The entire program must have crashed. It’ll take hours for me to get it back up, if I can even do it remotely.”

“Oh.” Frank licks his teeth. “Say something sexy.”

It’s a return to the slack-jawed look that Frank first saw on the guy. He doesn’t have a bad mouth, for some low-level dirty tech worker. “What?”

“I paid ten credits to get off. I intend to get my money’s worth.”

“I can’t…I’m not.” The guy’s cheeks are definitely pink now. “I’m not going help _get you off_. That’s definitely not in my job description.”

“It is now.” Frank looks over the guy’s face and, really, it isn’t too bad at all. He doesn’t need all the dirty words, really, as long as he can just imagine coming over that face, the pretty mouth, pointy nose. That pale, pale neck. It could be so fucking—

“You’re doing it!” The guy yelps, and Frank has to chuckle. “Stop…don’t _do_ that.”

“What, enjoy the view?” Frank smirks at him. “These are my last few hours dirtside, kid, you’re probably going to be the last pretty thing I see before it’s my ramshackle crew and their ugly mugs cycle after cycle.”

“You’re going out?” There’s a weird change in his expression, and Frank recognizes it easy.

“Never been out there, huh?”

“No.” The guy swallows, and Frank squeezes his cock, watching the line of his throat. “I’ve always wanted to, but. I get airsick. Probably couldn’t make it through exit velocity.”

“It’s a bitch,” Frank agrees, and the longing in this guy’s voice, it’s…really hot. He keeps stroking himself, taking in green eyes, slightly furrowed eyebrows. He’s incredibly imperfect, nothing like Giga’s gorgeous virtual symmetry. “Re-entry is worse, though. I thought I was going to shake apart, first few times I came back down.”

The guy shivers, and Frank imagines taking him up there, taking him to the nose and letting him lean forward against the glass. Fucking him against the glass, while nothing surrounds them but the black.

He comes with a grunt, fast enough to surprise himself, and the guy seems somewhat snapped out of his reverie by the sound.

“You…you didn’t.”

“Sure did,” Frank says, wiping his hand off on the other side of the booth. It’s made of smart metal and will purify itself by absorbing any waste…theoretically. “Thanks for that. You were a real help.”

“Was I?” He sounds almost hopeful, and Frank has to laugh again while he tucks himself away, doing everything back up.

“Way better than the virtual shit. You should do it yourself, save money on buying new programs.”

“I do all of our new programs in-house,” he says, blinking, like the first part was too much for his brain to take in.

“Yeah? Good for you, kid.” Frank gets his buckles in place, then smiles up at the screen. “Good luck with your, uh, server problems.”

“Thanks. Good luck…out there.”

He sounds so _moony_ that it makes Frank’s dick twitch again. Frank licks his lips, one corner of his mouth twisting up. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll send you a postcard.”


End file.
